


Heartblade

by AlmightyBubs



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action, Drama, Fantasy, First Kiss, Forbidden Love, Gay Fairy Tale?, Gay Male Character, M/M, Pining, Romance, Royalty, Short Story, Swords, YA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27374689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmightyBubs/pseuds/AlmightyBubs
Summary: Miguel Margloria is a prince with a blessing and a curse—when members of his royal bloodline first kiss the person they are destined to be with, special swords called Heartblades emerge from their hearts.Only with a kingdom at the brink of war, Miguel can't seem to keep his eyes off one of the royal soldiers, no matter how many girls his parents bring for him to kiss...
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

By now, I knew well that whenever Mamá called me for one of her talks, I’d leave it a tad less alive than I was before. Today was no exception. She caught me heading out of the castle, sketchbook in hand, right as I made the last turn to the large doorway that led to the gardens. Maybe she’d realized that I went out at this time every day. Maybe she’d found out the truth. Maybe—

“A word, Miguel?” she asked with a comforting smile. Cliché as it was for her to hide her true intentions behind it, it soothed the turbulence in my stomach a little.

“I have the vague feeling I already know what this is about,” I replied. 

Her smile was still there, but more polite than anything else. Practiced. “It may not seem clear yet, but war is coming. I’m not sure the tensions with Phinia will be healed before the time comes. So what I’m saying is, you need to start thinking about--”

“Unlocking my heartblade. I know. I just… True love isn’t exactly  _ easy  _ to find,” I swallowed. At least it was this same old discussion instead of what I was actually dreading before. “You and my sister just got lucky.”

“I know it can be scary at first, but our family actually has it easier than most once you think about it. Destiny has a tendency to point us to the right people.” She ran a hand through my brown curls, disrupting the neatness I’d combed them into to my mild annoyance. “It wasn’t any different when I met your father. Our first kiss was nothing special, but I felt it deep in my heart. And when I looked down, there it was, blooming from inside my chest like a flower—my very own heartblade. That’s when I knew he was the right person for me. Hasn’t proved me wrong so far, has it?”

“I can’t just go around kissing every person in the world one by one.” 

“I know, but I doubt it will be long until we have more  _ beautiful _ girls visiting from all over the kingdom. I’m sure they’ll find themselves very lucky to spend a night with a prince as handsome and charming as you,” she smiled, poking my nose. 

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the heat in my cheeks. “Mamá, please.”

“Keep an open mind. You may not fight in the war if you choose so, but it would be a great boost of morale for our troops if they knew you had their back.”

Even if I did  _ keep an open mind _ , it’d be fruitless. There was a reason the foreign princesses and duchesses that visited always left disappointed. Why our kisses always felt nothing but awkward and wet, and why none of them ever got more than one. 

There was a reason I went out every day at the same time with my sketchbook.

That very same reason was right there behind her, marching into the castle leading his fellow guardsmen. His name was Hugo Acero, and ever since I first saw him, I knew that life had dealt me the worst possible set of cards.

Maybe, just maybe, I would become the first person in the entire Marglorian royal lineage to never unlock my heartblade.

But somehow, the thought wasn’t as scary as the prospect of talking to Hugo.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day started for me with a post-breakfast heart attack, as I finished my morning bread alongside my sister.

“Don’t kid yourself, little brother. I know all about your little hobby,” Rosa snickered, twirling her long brown hair around one finger with a devious smile. Before my heart could commit to the scare and actually put me out of my misery, she elaborated. “What a dork, drawing every day. I didn’t think you’d be one for the arts. You’re getting quite good, you know?”

“How would  _ you  _ know that?” But a spark of fear revealed the truth—my dear sister’s usual disregard for my boundaries was the missing piece, and now everything clicked in place. My eyes widened at the only possibility. “Unless—”

Her smile grew as she lifted my sketchbook from her lap.

“That’s mine!” I yelped, standing up from my chain to reach for it across the table. On the edges of our dining room, the guards shifted their gazes to us. She let me grab it without resistance. “What’s it matter to you, anyway?” I huffed, holding it firm against my chest now.

“Well, I won’t tell Mamá you spend all day doodling instead of studying if you help me hide the fact that Juan is already on his way to visit me.  _ Before  _ the ball.”

“Before the ball? Why would your boyfriend arrive before the ball?”

“Miguel, you’re sixteen,” she gave me a half-smirk, “you should know by now why grown ups visit each other in secret.”

Disgusting as usual. 

I sighed, left to no choice. Mamá would probably hire a tutor if she knew I didn’t read as often as she wanted me to, which would effectively put an end to my  _ real _ hobby of guard-watching. Though frustration at being discovered so easily kept me from smiling, maybe having a confidant could have its uses. “Fine.”

“Good,” she said, standing up. “And you boys.” She looked at the few guards around us. “Not a word to our parents, or tomorrow I’ll be having your heads for breakfast instead.”

“Where are they?” I asked. “Our parents.” 

“In a meeting with the Head General. We should have the morning to ourselves.” 

So on the other side of the castle. Perfect. 

Once I started eagerly moving out of the room with my sketchbook under my arm, Rosa piped back up. “Predictable,” she muttered over her shoulder.

I glanced back. “We have a deal, Rosa. Stay out of my business, I’ll stay out of yours.”

She shrugged. As long as she kept her silence, I couldn’t complain. 

* * *

The day outside would’ve been perfect, with its few clouds, light breeze, and singing birds, if not for the fact that once I reached the courtyard where the guards trained, Hugo was nowhere to be found. 

His colleagues sparred in pairs with their wooden swords and bulky metal armor plates, striking each other and dodging and pulling fast maneuvers that made them look like blurs of silver. Only God knew how anyone could move that way in those. 

A few curious eyes turned toward me as I walked in, most already used to my daily presence. Since asking for Hugo would’ve brought even more suspicion, I left them to themselves and went for a stroll in the garden outside. If I couldn’t depict the only person worth doing so, I’d settle for the still life’s it offered me. 

A walk here was always, at least, a little uplifting. There was color to be found in every corner, beautiful flowers wherever I looked, and so many different fruit trees that there was always something different to be enjoyed, no matter the time of the year. I followed the gravel path leading out of the castle until it reached the large marble fountain in the middle of the garden, where I closed my eyes, and then took a deep breath.

Several fragrances swirled together into my lungs. I tried to pick them apart. Lilac. Jasmine. Wisteria. Underneath their rich, almost overbearing aromas, there were always others, sweet and subtle and gracious in their own ways. 

I opened my eyes once again and tried to gauge what called louder for my attention. 

On a small hidden corner off the main path, there was a little group of trees in the middle of a patch of grass without much else. Apple trees. Apples sounded good. As I approached, something else struck me —the sight of a shadow lying beneath one of them, behind its trunk. Had a wild animal snuck in?

I approached with quiet, careful steps, almost tiptoeing my way towards it, but the truth was stranger than my imagination. 

A person.

No.

Hugo.

It was Hugo himself, sleeping against the tree with his beefy arms behind his head. His armor was scattered next to him under the shade, leaving him only in a sleeveless shirt and trousers that blossomed red into my cheeks.

Hugo had always looked calm, but asleep, that peace made way for a cute side of him I hadn’t seen before, soft and unguarded. He had a round jaw with no hints of stubble, invaded by a line of drool slithering out of his mouth, as well as a whole starscape of freckles dotted from cheek to cheek. His short black hair, straighter than mine, was messy against his forehead. 

He might’ve been the most handsome boy I’d ever seen. 

If surprise hadn’t frozen me solid, then the size of his arms alone would have, at least twice as thick as mine. It was no wonder he used them as pillows. Any day, I would too. 

I quickly weighed the prospect of drawing him there, immobile, but what would I do if he woke up? What would  _ he _ do, or think? There were too many risks. Too many potential consequences. I had to go.

I tried to step back, but my shoe found a branch instead of the ground and snapped it apart with a decisive  _ crack _ .

Hugo’s eyes shot open and immediately connected to my face of panic.

“Prince Miguel!” he blurted, scrambling back to his feet to face me with a perfect posture, “I-I mean, Your Highness! I’m just, uh, I was attacked!” 

Since he was a bit taller than me, at least avoiding his gaze wasn’t that hard. I knew well that eye contact was the last thing between me and death. “Attacked?” I repeated with the same intensity, sweating just about everywhere I could as heat flushed me red. With luck, my golden brown skin would hide most of it.

His shoulders sagged forward as he blew out a breath. “No, that was a lie, I’m sorry. I was just… tired,” he finally admitted. I couldn’t help but smile, but it didn’t last long. “I’m really sorry. I’ll accept any punishment you’re willing to give.”

Oh Gods. 

“I-I’m not going to punish you!” I sputtered as fast as I could. “Don’t worry. I know you work hard every day. You’re the best junior guard we have, by a significant margin.” 

“Really?” Both of his eyebrows shot up, but one of them quickly subsided, mouth hanging open. “You’re not gonna… mark me up in your notebook?” He pointed at my sketchbook.

“Mark you up?” I asked, confused. “No, of course not! Why would I do that?”

“You know the rumors.” He scratched the nape of his neck. “The way you stare at us while we train, always on time. You’re grading our progress, aren’t you? At the request of the queen?”

Well, that explained a whole lot of things, even outside of this strange morning. The way some guards used to glare at me whenever they made mistakes, for one. The way they’d come to avoid my eyes in the halls. It felt a little better knowing it wasn’t my fault, at least not directly. “Feel free to see for yourself,” I chuckled, passing the sketchbook over to him. I was lucky to have given up on faces early on, otherwise he’d probably recognize the same moving body in every page as his own. 

With every page he flipped through, the fear in his eyes melted into something else. Could it be wonder? “Did you seriously draw these? I didn’t know you could draw!” Laughter spilled out of his mouth. “And we were all scared at nothing for  _ weeks _ . Great.”

“It’s alright,” I smiled, but deep down, anxiety still weighed down every word. One wrong line, and I could ruin this for good. “I actually came to the gardens to draw some still life’s for a change, but since you’re here…” The moment of truth thrummed inside my chest like thunder. “Could you model for me for a little bit? I promise it won’t take long.”

His posture straightened into its usual perfect form. “I don’t know what still lives are, but I’d be honored, Your Highness!” he beamed. “Just tell me what to do!”

“Follow me!” I replied with the same enthusiasm while he started putting his armor back on to my silent dismay. As soon as I’d turned away from him, every emotion I’d been holding back twitched through my face at the same time. What the hell was going on with my head? I was warm, cold, breathing too much and too little. With every step, I felt regret. This had been a mistake. Everything. I should’ve just waited for it to pass, waited until I was over this stupid crush, until one of the girls my parents brought finally turned out to be—

“Is… is here good?” Hugo asked once I bumped into a bench right in front of me.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” I swallowed, sitting down as he stood a few feet ahead, before a wisteria tree that slowly rained purple leaves.

He stood in place with his arms at his sides. “What do I do? I’ve never done this before.”

Since he was always in motion before, today I’d be able to capture him better than ever. I’d have to make sure I did my best. “Any pose is fine.”

In the end, he simply gripped the sides of his waist and puffed up his chest with tangible nervousness in his uncertain face as he stared at a fixed point somewhere above. Even though his worry was probably for a whole different reason, I was glad not to be the only one.

“Thank you again, Your Highness,” he said. “For not punishing me. It’s very kind of you.”

I began scratching the first lines on a new piece of paper with my pencil. “Please, it was nothing. I don’t do anything all day and still get tired, I can’t imagine how  _ you  _ feel.” After a second of reckless temptation, I added, “And call me Miguel. I never really liked  _ Your Highness _ . Too pompous.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Hugo, then.”

_ I know _ , I wanted to say, but since I wasn’t suicidal just yet, I went for a measured “It’s a good name” that landed as gracefully as a dead dove. 

Maybe I should reconsider that suicidal thing. 

I was mostly silent after that—which meant he was too—speaking only to offer mild adjustments to his pose or make awkward comments on the weather. As soon as I felt any longer would be keeping him there too long, I declared I’d finished.

Drawing had always been a bit of an escape for me, a world I could control, shape to my heart’s desire. When I thought like that, it was no wonder Hugo ended up my favorite subject. Whenever his form would grace a page, it was as though everything else became irrevocably drawn to its orbit. In a page of meaningless stars, he shone as bright as the sun. 

The piece itself was definitely more detailed than the other blurry shapes in the middle of movement that surrounded it. I’d gotten a good look at the way his muscles connected, the way his underclothes crumpled around the edges of his armor, that confident smile…

From the way all of those stirred within me, I could tell this had been a definite mistake. 

“Can I see?” he asked, moving over to my bench where I was still staring at my drawing. 

At least it was an excuse to look away. “Sure. Here it is. You.” I passed it over, and his eyes lit up almost immediately.

“Wow, this looks amazing!” He grinned. “You’re very good at this, Your High— I mean, M-Miguel.”

Once again, heat swarmed my face. “Thank you. Hugo.”

“I should be going now.” He looked away, towards the castle. “Before the others notice I’m gone.”

Something crumpled inside of my chest. As much as I wanted him to consider staying for a little longer, I knew nothing good would come out of it. This obsession was having enough of a toll on me. “Yes. Probably. Thank you for the time, though!”

“It was fun! Staying perfectly still for long amounts of time is probably one of my specialties.” Why did his face have to be so friendly and warm? “See you around, Prince!” 

“S-See you,” I echoed as he walked away.

As soon as he was gone and out of sight, I broke into a sprint towards the castle, towards my room, slowing it to a fast walk, whenever I stumbled upon anyone. When I finally reached my corridor on the third floor, I practically burst into my bedroom, slammed the door behind me, and then sank against it to the floor, drawing short and heavy breaths.

There was a lot of residual heat inside of me, all of it as aimless and lost as I was. Everything felt oddly surreal, and my mind still lagged behind me. Maybe it’d never left the garden at all. 

As if to confirm it hadn’t been a dream, I quickly flipped page after page of the sketchbook until the latest drawing appeared before me.

Hugo, in perfect detail. My  _ own _ Hugo, as close to the real one as I’d ever get.

He’d said my name back there, and I didn’t even savor it. Didn’t let myself absorb the moment.  _ Miguel _ . I could still hear him say it, sweet and bashful. 

I knew this was a curse. It had to be. 

But if it was a curse, why did it have to feel so damn good?


	3. Chapter 3

That image of Hugo blurred the next few days together inside my mind. I still followed my schedule as usual, my meals, my art, music practices, even my politics lessons, but I’d be damn lying if I said I didn’t think about him every hour. About the two of us, where he was at the moment, and where I could be. Did he still think about that morning? Did he think about me at all?

All until one bombshell during lunch broke me out of my trance.

“Miguelito,” Mamá said, looking down at the steak she was cutting with a grin, “we’ve arranged something for you—three young ladies will be coming over to meet you at the ball! Isn’t it exciting?”

“What?” I blurted, forcing a clump of rice down my throat as quick as I could so I wouldn’t choke on it. “Why? I don’t—I mean, isn’t this moving too fast?”

“Hah!” Papá let out a laugh. “We have a romantic. Call the doctors, Bella.” 

Mamá chose to ignore his comment with no more than an angry glance. “We don’t know how long we have until the war comes, dear,” She sighed. “You understand why we’re worried about your heartblade, don’t you? I promise you, we’ll give you and your lovebird as long as you two need to know each other once we’ve pushed Phinia out of Marglorian territories.”

My heart felt as though there was something squeezing it tight. Odd as it was, I should’ve been happy for it. Awakening my blade would only mean I’d be forced to get over Hugo, right? Why was I reluctant? Why did it feel like a loss? This was a part of myself I  _ enabled _ , not one I supported. It was a problem. 

“I just…” I swallowed, standing up from my seat even though I wasn’t done with lunch. My sister Rosa shot me an odd look of curiosity behind a facade of worry, an eyebrow raised. “Alright. I just need some time to process this.”

Luckily, I left the room to no other responses.

There was a place I went in times like this, when I felt lost, confused, so detached from reality that I needed some time to let wayward thoughts simmer and pull back every thread of myself I found trying to escape. It was a room in the back ends of the castle, forgotten to vines and dust when I’d first found it, but a little care had made it livable. It’d been a couple of months since then, but until now, I don’t think anyone else knew the maze of corridors and halls well enough to find it.

But when I pushed open the worn wooden door, I didn’t find myself alone. Beyond rows of old tables and chairs was someone sitting in silence, facing away from the door. The dirty windows on the back, before them, showed waves crashing against the distant beach.

A void grew on the pit of my stomach, not out of fear, but anxiety. I knew that messy chestnut hair. I’d seen it every day.

Of course, when I need to be as far away from my stupid fantasies as possible, they follow me like a shadow. 

But why wasn’t Hugo moving?

A snore loud as a pig answered my question. Tired again. I almost laughed, but managed to hold it in.

Before I knew it, I was walking into the room with slow, careful steps fueled only by temptation. Each one added to the pace of my heartbeats. Slowly but surely, I was getting closer to him, dodging obstacles, barely touching the ground at all.

He was sitting on a long bench, resting his head on a cupboard next to it. A trail of drool led from his open mouth to the tip of his chin. The longer I stared, the heavier my breaths got. Now I was sure this was a curse, because more than anything, I just wanted to reach out and touch his face. Hear his laughter. Feel the heat of his body against mine.

But I’d heard the myths. Forbidden fruits were always made forbidden for a reason.

Because… because the world was unfair. 

I let my body descend onto the bench next to him, where the warmth he radiated was close enough to caress my skin. I had to know how it truly felt. Quickly. Before anyone found out. With my posture straight, I very slowly leaned my head to the side until it fit on the nook of his shoulder.

Our hands grazed each other, pulling my heart out of rhythm. I closed my eyes, and let the moment sink.

My lungs were empty, but I had no intention of refilling them. 

His distant heartbeats pulsed against my ear. Its serenity was contagious—for a second, it made me smile. But this happiness and fulfillment would only ever be temporary. It wasn’t just wrong, it was blasphemous. A prince and a soldier, a bare commoner. 

This love was all I couldn’t have.  _ He _ was all I couldn’t have, outside of this stolen moment. Beyond guilt, I felt anger, let its growing embers climb the inside of my chest until they consumed my throat, leaving in their wake nothing but vacuum.

When it finally faded, tears came to replace ashes. My eyes stung, but I didn’t lift a single finger in their aid. 

“Puh… Prince?” Hugo stammered.

My blood froze solid and then boiled over as I jumped away from him, hiding my reddened face in the crook of my arm.

“Prince! Wait!”

But I was not going anywhere. Nowhere would offer me relief. Instead, I tried facing away from him, facing the sea.

“Prince, what’s wrong?” he asked, still distraught because of my selfishness. “Am I in trouble? I’m sorry, I—”

I cleared my throat “Miguel.”

“W-What?”

“Call me Miguel. Please.”  _ So it would feel real. _

“Miguel. Alright,” he sighed. “If there is anything I can do, please let me know.”

“I apologize. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Then… Then why did you come to me?”

I threw him a glance over my shoulder. My eyes were still red, no doubt, but I had to see him again. Worry didn’t fit him well, pushed his face to the wrong places. “Do you ever wish you lived another life, Hugo?”

“Yes,” He answered almost immediately, taking me a little by surprise. 

I turned to face him, but by now, he looked like he regretted saying it. “Why? You’re more talented with a sword than most people I know.” 

“That’s why.” He let out a tired chuckle. “Because I hate being defined by all this mindless violence, all this senseless  _ beating _ and  _ wounding,  _ but of course my father would never understand that. The other day…” His lips thinned as he blew air out of his nose. “He told me that if he died during the war, he wanted me to take his seat as Head General.” His gaze moved past mine and stopped at the sea behind me. “I-I don’t know what I’ll do if he does. That’s why… And I just told it all to the prince.”

Truth be told, with the way he moved in the sparring sessions in the courtyard, backing out was the last thing I expected from him. Maybe he’d noticed my fruitless search for words, because he spoke up before I could. Sorrow had washed every last semblance of energy out of his eyes. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I should return—,”

I took his hand with a step forward just as he began to move. “No. Please. I want to help you, if this is truly how you feel.” 

The ensuing smile warmed me to my core. “You’re very kind, Prince— I mean, Miguel. I think this is just the first time I talk about this with anyone. The other junior guards would never understand...”

I couldn’t help but grin too, not only for his mood, but also for the fact he still hadn’t mentioned or noticed the fact I still held his hand. 

“Would you tell me why you were crying, then?” He asked.

Curses. Maybe a truth for a truth was fairer than anything else. “My family keeps bringing me girls to kiss so I can unlock my heartblade, but… I have feelings for someone else. I don’t want any of them.” It felt as though a tiny piece of string was tied around my heart, getting tighter with each word.

“Then tell your parents!” He shot back, enthusiastic. “I’m sure they’ll understand, what’s the problem?”

There were a thousand words I wanted to say, but only two came to me, weak and reluctant. “I can’t.”

“But if you love her, then isn’t that all you need for your heartblade?”

“It needs to be my one destined  _ true love _ ,” I gulped, “how will I know if it’s  _ true love _ ?”

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s usually determined through a kiss, isn’t it? I think you should ask her for a kiss. She has no reason to deny the Prince himself, right? I think most would take it as an honor.”

My fingers curled further around his hand. “Hugo.” 

He noticed. “...Miguel?” 

“Can I kiss you?”

First came shock, then understanding. His eyes widened, cheeks blushing, at the same time my heart stopped entirely. But. But then they grew closer. I’d never looked into someone’s eyes as intimately as I looked now, bare inches away. They pulled me in like a current.

Luckily, he closed them once our lips touched, saving me from the undertow. 

And suddenly I was weightless, glued to his body. Every movement of his was electric. None of the dozens of girls I’d kissed before had been anything like this, their mouths never more than wet and awkward. That energy pulsed deep within me, but I could tell it wasn’t mine. There was  _ something  _ drawing us together, a tether, a link, a perfect fit.

A key, and a lock. 

Something pushed me away from him, but his hands were still busy holding one of mine and my shoulder. There was something different. A lightness, not  _ hollow _ , but  _ free. _ I looked down, only to find a silver hilt emerging from my heart like a plant from the soil, its pommel like an unresolved blossom.

“Miguel,” Hugo swallowed. “U-um.”

I took a step back, then gripped my hand around it and slowly pulled it out. The blade slid seamlessly out of me, going straight through my shirt as if it wasn’t there. It wasn’t very long, but it was certainly wide. Wider than my sister’s or my mother’s. Rectangular, in a way, and an inch thick. There was no clear point, only flat lines at the edges, weighing as little as a loaf of bread.

“ _ M-Miguel,”  _ Hugo repeated.

I looked up at him. His hands were shaking a little in front of his chest. A permanent frown etched his face. “You were right,” I said.

“No,” He shook his head with heavy breaths, pointing at me. “You— you’re the Prince! I can’t do this!” Before I could stop him, he turned and left the room in a hurry, stumbling past chairs and tables.

The world was crumbling before my eyes, and now, I don’t know if I could ever put it back together. My wrist trembled as I let go of the sword and it withered into dust. A ringing inside my heart told me it’d returned to its place, but it didn’t matter anymore. Reality felt as distant as the sun. 

I sank onto the floor and let it all crash back onto me at once like the raging waves of the shore outside.


	4. Chapter 4

After that horrendous attempt at romance, I spent the rest of my day in my bedroom. Pointless couldn’t begin to describe my new existence. Now that I knew how true love felt, now that I could feel my blade pulsing inside my heart, its recipient would never wish to speak to me again. 

What else was there to do besides sulking in bed? Even its size bothered me by now. I could sprawl out in every direction and never touch anything else.

Hugo was the first person I was ever sure I loved, and I’d just ruined it all. I couldn’t even glance at his drawn form without getting reminded of the shock I’d stained his face with, mixed with bitter betrayal. 

A series of quick knocks on the door interrupted the vision. I was about to yell at my sister to leave, when I remembered that it couldn’t possibly have been Rosa on the other side because I knew knocking was a foreign concept to her. 

“What is it?” I called, trying to mask my bitterness.

“It’s me, Your Highness,” that muffled voice replied, sending an electric jolt down my spine. “H-Hugo.”

“Hugo—,” I choked, quickly sitting up. “What do you want?

“Would you grant me permission to come in?”

I swallowed, then looked around my bedroom. Other than a few loose articles of clothing, the large room was otherwise neat. My curtains were drawn, my cupboards all closed, and the glass panes on the door out to the balcony had been polished recently. “Yes,” I replied, stepping out of the bed to face him, “If you wish.”

The doorway drew open, and his bulky figure entered the room. His dark hair was still unkempt, and he still wore the blue and yellow guard uniform. At least his face didn’t bear the same resentment as before, only calm conformity. Within the same second, I decided it wasn’t much better. 

Face to face, I couldn’t ignore the tension. “I’m sorry,” I tried to say, only to realize he’d just said the exact same sentence. 

His gaze remained steady. Practiced. “I came here to offer my formal resignation from the Royal Guard.”

‘“No, no, please, you don’t have to!” I sputtered as my hands tried and failed to accompany them with gestures. “Why?”

His eyes dug into mine, fists clenched. “You know why. I should be as far away from here as possible. From you.” His hands tightened around the letter in his hands, creating creases on the paper. “They can’t find out about this. We’ll get in trouble if I stay.”

“Hugo, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but this is a bad idea. We could just hide this whole mess.” My breaths grew heavy as I left the bed as quickly as I could to stand before him. “Your father will disown you! You’ll get blacklisted!” 

“It’s not that—you didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he paused, averting my gaze. “That wasn’t the problem.”

“Then what was?”

When his eyes returned to mine, they were filled with a whole new wave of sorrow. “That the  _ damn kiss  _ worked. Miguel, I-I’m not even sure if this is what I want. When has a royal ever married a commoner without both being ostracized? You’re the Prince, and I’m an utter  _ fool  _ pretending I’m a soldier. I need to find out who I truly am before I can know who I want to be.”

As much as it weighed on my heart, the choice was his. The least I could do was respect it, even if it meant staying away. But for now... 

“I have a proposition, then,” I offered.

“What is it?”

“I’ll help you leave your post. I’ll pull some strings, move you to a less aggressive position. Bodyguard, diplomat, ambassador, your choice. It won’t be your fault you’re leaving, then.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

“If,” I raised a finger, “you teach me how to use my heartblade. My parents have arranged for a few girls to be brought here for the ball, so I could, in theory, simply pretend one of them activated it.” I extended my hand. “Does that sound fair to you? We…” My lips shifted. “We’ll be free to go our separate ways afterwards.”

“Oh, I don’t know...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m not as proficient as you might think. Not as much as your family, or my father.”

“So you suppose I should just go out and reveal my sword to all of them?”

His eyes widened as his whole body perked up, but he quickly brought it back down. In the span of a second, he’d gone from imposing and threatening fighter to the friendly and unassuming, the edges of his stance lost to the soft curves that appeared when he relaxed. “Fine, then. I’ll do it.”

“Good. Fantastic,” I grinned. “Would you meet me tomorrow in the back gardens? It’s secluded enough that we’re unlikely to be interrupted by anyone.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Prince.”

“No, thank  _ you _ . I-I’m sorry I put you through this. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” he swallowed with a reassuring smile. “Can I see that sword again?” he asked, a twinkle of interest in his eyes. “It didn’t look like anything I’d seen before.”

Flustered, I tripped over my words. “Oh, uh, of course. One second.” With a hand over my heart, I tried to concentrate on that tingling feeling from inside it, tried to pull on its rippling echoes. It was a little distant, but unmistakably there, adjacent to my own heartbeat.

“Do you need another…?” 

I dreaded how red my face would get if Hugo ever finished that sentence. 

Fortunately, or not, the hilt then emerged from my lapel. “No need.” I pulled it out to reveal the same blade as before, stubby, wide, and a little thicker than most swords. It looked as though someone had cut a silver rectangle of steel and then attached it to a hilt that deserved something ten times as elegant. 

“That’s a very unusual sword,” Hugo noted, crouching a bit to inspect it.

Unfortunately, he was right. It looked like something that would come out of the forge of an inexperienced blacksmith. “My mother has a long sword and my sister a rapier. I thought mine would be normal as well.” 

“Maybe you’re not a very normal person,” he said, still bearing the same optimism. “We’ll test what it can do tomorrow. I’m sure it has its uses. See you then?”

“Of course,” I nodded. “Until then.”

It only took his exit for that hollow feeling to return. Was it ever really gone? I’d never made amends, only buried my woes until I couldn’t hear them ringing against my ears anymore. 

They clawed their way out little by little.

* * *

Just as we had discussed, Hugo waited for me in the woods behind the castle. It was a decent patch of forest that bridged the green plains to the beach beyond them, not as glamorous as the gardens in the front but closer to how nature really was out there, dictated by their own natural order and brimming with animals.

Though I was still a little conflicted over all the things Hugo had kept to himself about his feelings towards our kiss, I hoped above all that he was being honest about what he’d shared. The only thing that would make this worse was if he wasn’t. For now, I could allow myself a little hope that he gave the further implications of our kiss some thought. Our future.

As little choice as he’d left me, I couldn’t let go of heaven so quickly.

I found Hugo waiting for me in a clearing, sitting against a tree near the shade. He’d brought along a pair of wooden swords as well, which he picked up as soon as he saw me. The expression on his face as we walked towards each other was a sad kind of neutral.

“Hi,” he said, offering one of the swords to me. I was at least glad to see the inklings of a smile as I took it. 

“Are you feeling any better?” I tried.

“I don’t know.” He took a few steps back, holding the hilt of his sword with both hands. “How much experience do you have?”

“Um… none. My parents tried to train me when I was younger, but I was hopeless. If I want to be included in the war, I need to at least be able to defend myself.”

“Oh, boy,” He sighed, tossing his sword aside and walking over to me. “Then we might need to have you learn the basics first. Try holding it with both hands.”

I did as he said, placing my right hand above my left and holding it in front of me, just as I’d seen the other guards hold it every morning.

“A bit higher,” He followed.

“Like this?” I raised it to my chest.

“No, no,” He said, stepping behind me. Before I could say anything, he placed his hands on mine, head a little over my shoulder. Chills swam across my back once I realized I could almost feel his chest inches away. His fingers adjusted my grip and then lowered it to about where my bellybutton was. “You’ll hold it around here, for the most part.”

To my dismay, he then stepped away and circled around to face me. “Good. Now the basics.”

The next fifteen minutes consisted mostly of myself miming and mindlessly repeating Hugo’s poses and slow movements, which, for something as exciting and hot-blooded as sword-fighting, turned out to be a fairly boring display of how quickly my arms could get tired of holding the same positions. 

Our heartblades were the pride and joy of the Marglorian Royal Family. They were supposed to be what set us apart, in  _ our blood _ . Why was I having such an unbearable time?

Maybe heartblades were precisely the problem.

“Ready for the next one?” Hugo asked.

“Wait,” I cut in, “do you mind if I practice with my own sword? I think it’ll be better for me to get a feel for it.”

“Go ahead.”

I threw him the wooden sword, which he caught it over his head without looking, and then pulled my heartblade out of my chest. The difference in weight alone would probably make these next attempts far easier.

“I have to admit, I don’t know how you’re supposed to use that.” Hugo crossed his arms. “Is it even a sword?”

“Of course it’s a sword!” I protested. “Look.” Next to me was a tree with a few low-hanging branches. I set my sight on one of them and then raised my arms over my head, just as I’d been doing minutes before, and then swung down as fast as I could. The wide blade hit the branch and simply stayed there. It hadn’t pierced it. It hadn’ t even made a visible dent.

Hugo stared at it with concern. “Are you sure…?”

A spark of annoyance ignited a whole fire on my face. “It might not  _ look _ much like a sword, but it’s a sword!” I scoffed. “I’m a Margloria. My whole family has swords, why would I be any different? I’m not different from them! I’m—!” The word  _ normal _ remained lodged inside my throat. Maybe it was for the best that it didn’t come out. For one, I knew it’d be a lie. I’d sealed my fate as ‘anything but’ the moment my lips had touched his.

“I-I was just joking, Miguel. Sorry.” Hugo sighed. “It’s alright. We’ll find a way to use it.” 

The truth of it all returned to me inside his subsequent smile, reassuring and honest. That was one of the things I was still trying to understand about Hugo—the way the happiness he instilled in me was different from any other kind I’d experienced before. Warm inside, almost jittery. Since when had I been jittery? There was  _ happy, _ and then there was  _ whole _ . Maybe Hugo was the bridge between them. 

To hell with the world, and to hell with my family. “Spar me, then.” I grinned, turning to face him with my stance ready. “For my honor.”

“C’mon, Miguel. You’re not ready to spar with me yet.”

“Am I not?” I asked, tilting my head ever so slightly with a cocky smirk, “Or are you just scared of fighting against  _ the  _ Prince Miguel Margloria?”

“Scared? Okay.” His dismissal turned into laughter, infected by my contagious smugness. “Don’t come whining to me about how sore you are later.”

He ran up to me before I could say anything else, and I managed to raise my sword just in time to block his first strike. Just as quickly as it hit, Hugo had pulled back and gone for the other side, pushing me back with a hit that I could tell was holding back strength.

When I got another look at his face from behind my blade, I spotted an unexpected smile of joy. “One point for me,” He said. He was right. I’d never beat him if that stupid face was all I paid attention to. 

I dashed back in to close the gap between us. This time, I thrust forward with a jab before Hugo could make the first move. I’d seen my sister perform the same move with her rapier a good number of times in public demonstrations and formal events, but hers was a toothpick to my plank. Even with his talent, Hugo’s humble wooden sword was not able to stop my advance, so he was forced to stumble back a couple of feet before regaining his pace.

His movements were calculated and practiced, but I would be lying if I said my unusual sword didn’t smooth the difference between us a little, leaving little to no openings with its scale. Credit where credit was due, the few of them my inexperience made available were Hugo’s to take, and he seized them without mercy. 

But despite that, it didn’t feel like a fight to me. I wasn’t being moved by anger, nor inner instinct or an urge to prove myself. Maybe it was about the two of us—the whole world reduced to a playful back and forth. His attention was all mine.

Our dance continued into the other side of the clearing as he slowly forced me back. True to his words, my arms were already getting quite tired, even with a sword that weighed times less than his. Once I’d made a particularly risky move that involved raising my sword over my head, he hooked his between my wrist and then twisted it in a way that sent my heartblade spinning away to the side. It fell into dust before it could touch the ground. 

Hugo set his sword against my throat as my back met the trunk of a tree. Eye to eye, and almost chest to chest, I could at least see he was happy. While I panted with fatigue, he only bore a smile, half-proud.

“Happy with yourself?” I asked as he lowered his sword. “I thought you didn’t like fighting.”

“This wasn’t fighting.” He crossed his arms. “This was you provoking me, and especially, this was me beating a Margloria in combat.”

“Some pacifist you are,” I mocked, but as soon as I saw that joy fade from his face, regret crumpled like paper inside my stomach. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend.”

“Don’t worry. It’s just that you’re the only person I’ve told this, and I can’t handle lying to my father anymore. If war does come, what will you do?”

“I will fight with my family,” I replied. “What else is there to do?”

“That’s what I thought. I won’t judge you for choosing this path, but when the time comes, could you imagine taking away a life with your own hands? Because I couldn’t. And yet my father keeps track of his count as if it’s something to be  _ proud  _ of… Does that make me a coward?”

“No. That makes you perfectly normal. It might not be  _ their _ normal, but the two of us might be a bit past that, like you said, don’t you think?”

His smile returned, warmer than before in virtue of the peace it now carried. To my surprise, Hugo then threw his hand behind my neck and pushed our faces together into another kiss that froze every inch of me. 

A mere second was all it took for my body to let go of shock and relax every muscle, unwinding like a thread. Without my sword to push us apart, my hands were free to explore the ridges of his chest I hadn’t gotten to before as his tongue breached through his lips to caress mine.

Once I withdrew to breathe, our foreheads leaning against one another, I couldn’t help but giggle a little. “I-I thought you weren’t certain?”

“I just had to make sure,” He sighed, cursing under his breath. “ _ Pigs _ .”

I pulled his hand into mine. “What’s wrong?”

“That was  _ really _ good.  _ That’s _ the problem.” He let out a guilty chuckle. “Miguel, what the hell are we going to do?”

In turn, waves of electricity ran down my skin. “You mean you want to be with me?”

“I think so.” His cheeks went red. “If that’s okay with you.” 

"Are you kidding? Of course!" I let out a breath that made my whole body lighter, every inch of it brimming with fluttering joy. “Why the sudden change of heart?” I grinned.

“You let me be honest. And you’re honest with me in return. You let me be  _ myself _ . I mean, a soldier and a prince… you don’t see that every day.”

“Am I any better than the city girls?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t know,” he shrugged. “You were my first.”

At least it seemed he wasn’t lying about being honest. It was time to reciprocate. “Well, then allow me to say,” I leaned closer to run my fingers up his chest, “your lips are better than those of every princess I’ve ever met.”

A movement to our left rattled through the bushes, seizing our attention in the blink of an eye. A pair of faces walked out from behind it. Panic brought down a river of fire inside every vein.

“Oh my. How scandalous, little brother,” My sister Rosa chuckled as she walked into the clearing, followed by a tall boy with a ponytail. Juan. Rats. He got here early after all. 

Hugo pushed himself away from me almost immediately, turning away to pick his sword from the floor as he hid his face. 

“Rosa,” I panted, standing before him, I can explain.”

“Well, your drawings make a lot more sense  _ now. _ ” She approached alone, leaving an awkward Juan behind by the bushes. “Is he General Acero’s kid?” She raised a hand next to her mouth, glancing at him, “You don’t have to hide!”

He froze still, then slowly turned to face her with stiff limbs. “My name is Hugo.”

After looking him up and down, she returned her eyes to me. “You’ve always been a little rebel, little brother, but I have to admit, at least you have good taste.”

“I’m not  _ rebelling! _ ” I barked, “I’m just… I...” No words came to my aid.

“Are you not? Then what is this?” She gestured towards him, bringing Hugo to the point of trembling. 

With a grunt of annoyance, I focused once again on that feeling inside my chest and then pulled my heartblade out to hold it in front of me. 

Her eyes got quite wide after that. 

“Oh.  _ Oh. _ You poor, innocent soul.” Rosa turned her head over her shoulder. “Juan. Wait for me in my room, take the secret entrance. Not one word of this to anyone.”

Juan nodded, a bit meekly, and then shuffled away from us as I let my sword wither away out of my grip. 

“Now you tell me everything,” she stated. It wasn’t much of an order moreso than an end she already thought certain. 

But the story wasn’t mine alone to tell. “Hugo?” I tried, but he was still looking down, as frightened as a deer facing the wrong end of an arrow. “Please, she might be  _ Rosa _ , but she’s not a liar. She won’t tell the others about us.”

“Do you promise?” he muttered.

“With my heart and soul,” she agreed. “Now go.”

I gave Hugo a reassuring glance, and he reluctantly nodded.

My words were held back by hesitance at first, but little by little, I told her everything about me and Hugo. The few months of guard-watching. Every stolen glance. Both napping incidents. Her expression barely changed through it all.

“I see. That is…” she pursed her lips, slowly nodding, “quite adorable. I’ll help you keep your secret.”

My shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank you.”

“Meet me tomorrow in my private gym after lunch. I want to see that heartblade of yours in action,” she smiled coyly. “You’re invited too,  _ Hugo _ .”

He gave a weak bow in response. “T-Thanks, Your Highness.”

She began to walk away. “Don’t be late.” 

As soon as she was gone through the bushes and we were alone again, Hugo and I snapped our gazes back to each other. The fear in his eyes still lingered. 

“What now?” He asked.

“I’ll get us through this. I promise.” I took one of his hands. “Whatever it takes for a happy ending for us both. Do you trust me?”

He smiled. “As long as this true love thing goes both ways.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you sure that’s a sword?” Rosa asked.

First Hugo, and now her. Were these oafs blind? “Yes! It’s a sword!”

We stood together in Rosa’s training chambers, the two of us inside a small battle circle and Hugo just off the sidelines. To avoid suspicion, he’d even come in full guard uniform, armor included. 

The day after Rosa had first kissed Juan in front of all of us and unlocked her heartblade, Mom had a spare room vacated just for her. To my knowledge, she’d only used it for private tea parties, the occasional casual match, and whatever the cursed hell she did with Juan in their spare time. 

And yet, she was still better with a sword than just about anyone I knew, with the exception of our mother. It was said it came to us Margloria’s like an innate instinct, but maybe it had missed me altogether.

Now, with her elegant rapier in hand to contrast with my bulky whatever-it-was, the difference between us was more apparent than ever. The perfect child, and the one who would end up ruining our name altogether. Elegance, and embarrassment. 

“Alright, sorry, you don’t have to look so glum,” she conceded. The shame must have shown in my face. “It is a sword, albeit quite an ugly specimen.”

“Well, can you show me how to use it?” I sighed.

“What makes you think I know that?” she shot back. “I’ve never seen a sword like that, let alone used one.”

Hugo cleared his throat. “Your Highness, if I may.” He stepped forward with his hands behind his back. “I had a short spar against it yesterday. It’s a bit slow, but it’s very good for blocking forward strikes as well as heavy hits on a short to midrange, a little more than your average sword. It’s almost like a cross between a shield and a club, in a way.”

In front of her, he sounded like a completely different person, formal and compliant, but I supposed the knowledge had been his all along. Maybe I’d underestimated it. 

“Good analysis, Hugo,” she smiled, pacing back to the other side of the room.

He nodded his thanks. It was odd seeing him so neutral and conforming after the sad, low states we’d seen each other in. 

“So?” I asked her. “Do you have any ideas?”

“I’ll go easy on you. For now,” she quickly added. “Let me get a feel for it too.”

I shrugged, taking position on my own side of the small arena as she moved all the dummies and other loose equipment out of the circle. Hugo remained still as a statue by the wall, underneath a shelf of trophies and a few stuffed animal heads. 

“One,” She counted, holding her sword parallel to her body with one hand. I firmed my grip in the same position Hugo had taught me. “Two.” She winked. “ _Three_. Go!”

Rosa dashed forward, but I was already swinging forward as soon as her feet had left the ground. The collision was clear in my mind’s eye; the trajectories were right. Her overconfidence would be the end of her.

And yet, at the last second, her body twisted into a downward spin underneath my sword that ended with a shallow slash across one of my shins before she reappeared next to me.

I looked down, expecting to find pain and blood, but her sword had only gone deep enough to slice through a section of my trousers. Of course.

“These were new!” I yelped, blocking another slash at my chest.

She laughed at my anger, rapier twitching against my heartblade. “Three months isn’t _new_ , Miguel.” 

I needed to get her away, fast, so I opted for the only move that had worked for me so far. My fists suddenly dropped to my belly button, forcing her arms down in tandem, and then I thrusted forward with the blunt end of the blade. True to my awful luck, it never even made contact with her sword.

At the same time, her hand had pushed down on its surface and she’d used the momentum to roll over it. In less than a second, she’d gotten to her feet over the blade and jumped into an arc above me, pushing my sword out of my hands and to the floor. Before I could re-summon it, the cold steel of her rapier touched the side of my neck from behind.

“How _long_ have you had that thing?” she asked in an angering tone. “I expected you to be better.”

“Only a few days,” I bitterly replied, turning to face her. “I’m sorry I _fell in love with a soldier!_ ” My volume rose at the same rate as the sudden fire inside of me. “Truly, my fault. My mistake, I’ll just take it all back and get it right with the first duchess I meet!”

“Easy, Miguelito. There’s no need to get snappy.” That cocky satisfaction had faded from her face altogether. “Is that why you haven’t told Mamá?”

“Of course it is. What would she think if I told her I’d kissed a commoner?! A Royal Guard, no less?” I sank onto a bench next to the wall, letting my head drop to my hands. “I… I wouldn’t even give her any heirs.”

Rosa brought a finger to her chin as her gaze went elsewhere, lost to a memory. “ _Now_ , I used to know this girl who knew a witch, and _she_ said—”

Something warm touched my shoulder. I looked up to find Hugo holding it, his comforting gaze pulling mine along with it. “If it comes to it, just follow through with the plan, Miguel. It’s fine.”

“The plan?” Rosa asked.

“Miguel kisses one of the girls at the ball, summons his heartblade, and then pretends she’s the one,” Hugo turned to explain to her, “This way, we’ll both come out of this alive and well if no one knows we were ever involved.”

“But I don’t want that anymore!” I clenched my fists. “I want you! You’re my true love, not them!” I took a deep breath, rubbing the bridge of my nose before taking his hands in mine. “You make me feel better than anyone else, Hugo. Like I don’t have to hide anything, or prove anything, or be of worth for anyone else.”

“Maybe I should go check on Juan,” Rosa quickly decided, moving past us to leave the room. As soon as she’d gone out the door, Hugo’s face might as well have aged ten years.

“You don’t need me.” He sat beside me, though just far enough that our bodies didn’t touch. “You have your family, friends, and a whole royal life ahead of you. I can't live with myself being in the way of your happiness.”

“I'd rather live whole for a week than hollow for a century. Do you think my parents ever allowed me _friends_? All I've known my entire life are the girls they bring me. The rest sees me as either a blessing or a curse. I don't want to be either.”

“ _Díos_ , Miguel, what do you want me to say?” he scoffed. “You're royalty. I am not. There is no other way around this that doesn’t involve running away.”

“The Grand Ball is tomorrow. Is that the last day we’ll be together, then?” I could feel my body shrinking into itself, drawn to the black hole inside of my stomach. “Have you… Have you chosen what career you want? For your future? I need to know what position to move you to.”

It was his turn to look away. “No. I don’t know.”

“It's ok, we have time. You know, I had this dream yesterday,” I swallowed, but a smile melted its way to my lips, “that the two of us went together to the ball. We both wore formal suits, and then danced together for the crowd, and none of them—they were all smiling. As happy for us as we were for each other. I wish I could make it true.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to dance,” Hugo chuckled under his own sadness.

“Hugo…” My fingers tightened around his soft hand over the bench. “How can we be apart when destiny brought us together?”

“Miguel, stop.” His voice had grown cold and detached, tearing a hole through my chest.

“Stop what?”

“The earlier we accept it, the easier it will be. Just stop. No more fantasies. No more _what if’_ s. Please. I like you too, but what can we do that doesn’t involve breaking a thousand more rules?”

“What about…” When I found the words, they spilled out of my in one breath. “What you said in the forest?”

“My father wanted to talk to me earlier. War with Phinia is imminent, Miguel, no matter how much the Marglorian armies push back. When it comes, I’ll be right there.” His hands left mine to hold his own chest, gaze falling to the floor. “In the front lines.” 

“If it comes,” I replied, trying to meet his eyes nonetheless. “I’ll be there too. Next to you. I promise.”

But Hugo remained withdrawn. “I should be going, Miguel.”

Hope wasn’t back for long before its light was snuffed out. 

“Do you still want to train again later?” he asked.

“No, I… I’ll be busy.” Training didn’t matter. Training had always been nothing more than an excuse.

He stood up, giving me one last glance. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. G-Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

His absence left the room a vacuum.

Rosa returned a few minutes after Hugo had left, but I’d never moved from that bench. Where could I even go? “Is everything alright?” She asked.

“No,” I dodged her gaze, focusing instead on the myriad of weapons hanging on the other wall. “When you first kissed Juan, did it all make sense to you?”

“Not at first.” She moved to sit beside me, leaning her head on mine. “He was always scared of me, and I thought he was a complete wimp. Turns out, that’s what we needed. I pushed him out of his shell. He taught me to think twice about things every once in a while. True love can’t be wrong.”

“Well, tell the Cupid he missed his arrow this time.”

“I know what you think, but you can’t let go of Hugo so easily.” She wrapped her arm around my back and pulled me closer.

“I don’t want to.” But his face drenched in sadness was all I saw. “And yet I’m starting to think this can’t work.”

“What would you do to be together? How far would you go?”

“Anything. I just want to spend more time with him. He wants to part ways _tomorrow_ ,” I sniffed.

“Then it’s sure things will work themselves out. I know you, little brother. When you were seven, you wanted to play the piano. Mamá said you couldn’t. What did you do?”

The answer took a little while to come out. I’d almost forgotten it. “I practiced behind her back.”

“And yet when you played that recital for Abuelo, she couldn’t hold back her tears. Mamá makes mistakes too, Miguel. She’s not perfect, like _I_ am. If being with Hugo is what makes you happy, then you need to do what you do best. _Rebel_.” 

I hugged her as tightly as I could, as _briefly_ as I could. The sooner I let go, the less her stench would attach itself to me. 

“What is it you say, when people help you?” She grinned.

“Thank you, Rosa,” I sighed with a groan.

Her satisfaction would’ve bothered me any other day. “Go find your shining knight. I saw him heading downstairs.”

* * *

With the aid of a handful of guards, and nearly getting myself lost, I found him in the place I certainly should’ve looked first. When I crossed that forgotten corridor, the door to my secret room was slightly ajar.

I pulled it open to see him sitting inside, gazing at the distant beach.

“Hugo,” I said. 

When he stared back at me in surprise, his eyes were still wet.

“I know we can’t be together after tomorrow,” I said, moving towards him with hurried steps, “but we can still have this today, and I’ll be damned if I let myself waste it.” When I had my back to the sea and my eyes facing his, I leaned down and kissed him, caressing the back of his head to push us together. His words earlier might have lacked it, but the electric jolts his lips gave me were there to meet mine.

Once I stopped to let him stand, it was with my own hope under a leash, dreading the worst, but he’d never stopped looking at me.

Instead, he pulled me in for more. All the worries I’d kept in cages broke out to fly away, untethered and free, leaving me as light as the blue sky.


	6. Chapter 6

I was never sure what time a ball truly started. 

Before the music, there were the guests; before the guests, the food; before the food, the arrangements. The time that bridged all of those together was always a blur of hurry, reassurance, and the ever-present fear that somehow, something would go wrong. Problems, solutions, more problems, more solutions. There had never been anything too drastic, save for the one Spring Ball a few years ago wherein more than one affair was uncovered, to the dismay of my parents and to the unending joy of my own thirst for any drama that didn’t involve myself. 

Now, as the orchestra band played an upbeat song on the stage, the guests mingled around our ballroom, and everything seemed like it was going well—save for Mamá’s occasional intrusion/inspection. Her and Papá stayed mostly on their own corner of the room, sitting upon their thrones above a small platform visited by curious, excitable guests and servants alike, carrying trays of food. Mamá had already started to disapprove of how many croquetas Papá took from them at once, which meant about the time our parties truly began.

Rosa, in true Rosa fashion, had taken over the dance floor for herself and Juan, the two of them laughing at themselves and each other as they danced in rather unorthodox ways, fast, abrupt moves bringing them both closer and apart at the same time. By the looks of the guests around them, it was starting to catch on. 

Even the guards were partying among the guests today, free of the worries of their duty, but Hugo was nowhere to be seen among them. It wasn’t a surprise to me that he’d be absent. I couldn’t imagine he’d want to be here with me, forced to hide anything between us. 

I had almost forgotten about the true reason I was here, sitting on a table by myself, until a certain arrival ended all reminiscing and spoiled the tart I was eating, as my tongue had gone both dry and bitter at the same time.

The sound of trumpets shook me out of that anxiety, thrumming deep into my body as the large doors parted at the end of the room.

“My guests!” Mamá cheered, standing before her throne as the orchestra gradually stopped their song, “Please welcome our first suitress of the night, Adela Albarrán!”

When my gaze snapped towards the entrance, my lungs lost their wind. The last threads of sunlight shone upon a girl standing in the doorway, with deep brown skin and dark brown curls cascading down her shoulders. Her lilac dress had frills and a ribbon around her waist, suiting her form quite well, even if I’d never properly found the appeal of the female form. 

The first duchess of the evening was here.

I tried to straighten my tie as I stood. Beneath it was a white suit, embroidered with intricate blue patterns all over its surface along with my royal sash. It was just _slightly_ fancier than the way I dressed myself on regular days. As I approached feeling dozens of eyes burning against my back, no doubt my parents’ among them, the duchess smiled at me, gripping the seams of her dress to bow.

“I had heard about your good looks before, my prince, but it seems even those accounts failed to describe the full picture.” _Curses_. Of course there would be flirting. “I am Adella Albarrán, Duchess of Olíria.”

“A pleasure to meet you, certainly,” I smiled as well, taking one of her hands to plant a kiss on its back in a bow. “I suppose you just want to get it over with? If your parents are as insistent as mine, I can only imagine how _you_ feel.”

Something flickered past her gaze, but her expression remained steady in polite joy. “I was actually in the mood for some light conversation, but if you insist…”

She closed her eyes, and then began to lean closer, lips pursed. Maybe just putting an end to it was the easiest way out, so I didn’t leave her waiting, following her advance with my own. 

As my mouth pressed against hers, the only thing tangible was how boring and mechanical it all felt. 

But then my heart skipped a beat. 

And another.

It felt constricted, held down by something, being crushed inside a tight grip. Its strained vibrations each carried a strange ache as something sharp tried to poke its way in, my own heartblade stuck inside the ever-shrinking bubble of pain. Before I knew it, I was pushing her shoulders away and clutching at my chest, but the feeling had gone as soon as I’d stopped touching her.

Gasps echoed throughout the entire room behind me, speculation and chatter running rampant in the gaps, but when I turned to face them, it was empty handed and a little distraught.

I’d never heard of nor felt this kind of internal backfire before. Was my heartblade revolting against it? Against _her?_

My gaze focused only to find every pair of eyes in the room staring at me. 

“Sorry,” I panted. “False alarm.”

Behind me, Adella’s eyes were wide and her mouth suddenly narrow. “My prince? Are you not alright?”

“My apologies, Miss Albarrán, but it seems you are not the one,” I quickly blurted the same nonsense I gave all the others, offering her one last sympathetic nod before I moved past her and out of the party. “I’ll be right back,” I assured the rest over my shoulder.

A few corridors away, where I was alone even from guards, I was able to lean against the wall and assess my own wellbeing. My heart was better, still a little frantic, but maybe just a side-effect of my sudden exit. I tried to call on the blade within. At first there was a little resistance, a knot of threads failing to pull themselves apart, but they soon unravelled to let through the familiar pommel of my heartblade. With a sigh of relief, I pushed it back in. So it _had_ only been a temporary effect, even if the initial shock still lingered. What would have happened if I had held the kiss for longer? What would happen once I kissed the next girl?

What would happen if I had to live with one of them forever?

I simply couldn’t. Couldn’t bear the thought. Living this lie for now had been difficult enough.

A sudden set of footsteps derailed my train of thought in an instant. 

“There you are,” Rosa said, turning around the corner. Her elegant dress bore the same white and blue as my clothes. 

“What do you want?” I asked. “She obviously wasn’t the one.”

“Well, since I know you better than anyone else, a freakout of this nature was in my list of things to be expected.” Her simple smile took a turn for the mischievous. “So I arranged a surprise in advance.”

I cautiously took a step back. “I don’t know if I’m in the mood for one of your surprises.”

“This is _different_ , c’mon, let me cheer you up for once.”

“Different how?” I crossed my arms, still unconvinced.

“Leave through the back door, take the long way around, and then enter the city from the alleyways.” Her smile was as mischievous as ever, but there _was_ something different about it. “My surprise will be waiting for you there.” 

“If you just want to rob me, doing it here would save us both a lot of time, sister.”

“Will you do it or not?”

“As long as you give Mamá a good excuse,” I sighed.

“Of course, bowel problems. Happens to the best of us.”

I decided to quit there and not to give Rosa any more ammunition. The more control I gave her over my life, the less I’d find it how I left it when I got back.

* * *

It became rather easy to think this was just another elaborate prank that would end with myself lost in the dingy alleyways of the city, but the first sign I got that maybe she was actually telling the truth came when I entered the outskirts of the castle’s outer walls. Though most of the lights were out, as this neighborhood was mostly populated by the guards currently attending the ball, there was a faint glow somewhere overhead, above the rooftops, somewhere deeper into the maze of alleys.

The air smelled of dirt and waste; murky puddles permeated street corners; every so often, rats scurried past my feet. The only redeeming factor about this path was that I was alone. The ball’s distant, faint melodies still reached my ears, feeding the growing regret inside. 

Eventually, I came across a turn that smelled a little better, almost perfumed—no, definitely perfumed. My mother’s favorite incense, its scent light and flowery. The source of the light was on the other side. My feet trembled a little, expecting the worst, but as they carried me around the wall, I was faced with maybe the last thing I expected.

Hugo. 

His dark hair was neat. Washed. _Combed._ Rather than the guard uniform I always saw him in, he was wearing a formal suit, second-hand, judging by the sleeves and seams, but it still made him look dazzling. He stood next to a wooden table with ornate cloth and two plates of paella along with a pitcher of juice. Candles all around us gave the entire alley an orange glow. Among them, the small tray of incense that had caught my senses. 

When I came back to myself, my mouth was open and my eyes watering. 

“H-Hi,” I stammered.

“Hi, Miguel,” he smiled, taking a seat on the other side of the table, facing me. “Do you come here often?”

I approached, letting out a chuckle of surprise as I sat in the other chair. “What is this?” My hand quickly found his over the table.

“I realized… If this is our last night together, then I wouldn’t want to spend it apart. Your sister helped me with the rest. I assume she sneaked you away?”

I nodded. “This is perfect.” Tears building in my eyes reduced the scene to orange blurs, so I brought a hand to wipe them away. “Sorry.”

“Are you really crying?” Hugo laughed.

“Feel free to laugh,” I grinned, but the seafood before me smelled so nice it was hard to look away from it. “Did you make all of this yourself?”

“No, I can’t cook like this at all! Rosa got it all for me.” He brought a forkful to his mouth, so I followed and began eating as well. The vegetables, the shrimp, the _perfect_ rice—it could only have been our kitchen staff. “The only thing I’m good for in the kitchen is baking, this kind of food always goes wrong for me.”

“Baking?” I laughed. “Really?”

“Is that surprising? It’s a fun hobby.”

“I’m sorry, it’s still a little hard to break my previous image of you, all strong and manly instead of a _pacifist baker_.”

He curled one eyebrow up his forehead with a smirk. “Are you implying baking isn’t manly? I swear, some day, I’ll drag you to—” Something flickered past his face, shooting down his smile. “Sorry. Nevermind.” His gaze returned to the food. 

“Hugo, we don’t have to pretend tomorrow doesn’t exist. It’s alright.” My memory drifted back to Adella and our failed kiss. I hadn’t sealed our deal. “Regardless, I… I haven’t done it yet. I haven’t done my part of the plan.”

His expression froze. “You didn’t kiss the girls?”

“Only one, but kissing her was different from all those other times. I felt my heart _revolt_ , Hugo. I felt like I was being stabbed.”

Hugo gave a long sigh. “Miguel—”

“And I’m not kissing any others,” I cut in.

He looked at me like I was insane. “What? Why?”

I leaned forward, confidence making my whole body lighter. “Hugo, let’s do it today. Let’s tell my parents. Let’s be together.”

“Are you crazy?” he shot back. “They’ll cast us out in front of everyone!”

“Answer me something.” I practically squeezed his hand. “Do you like me?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Do you wish you could be with me?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then that’s all that matters, Hugo. Mamá is desperate for morale, what better way to give our troops just that than to show them the union between myself and one of their own?”

Hugo didn’t reply, silently chewing on his food and still averting my eyes. Every second he didn’t speak added fuel to my frantic, hopeful heartbeat, until his gaze finally met mine and his lips shifted into a smile. “...Okay.”

“Really?” I beamed. “We can do it?”

“Yes. It could work. And I trust you.”

“Stand up,” I told him, doing the same.

“What? But the food—”

I walked over to his side. “We’ll be back for it, just stand up for a second.”

As he followed my order, I pulled him away from the chair, standing near the end of the alley lined with candles.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Can you hear that music in the air?” I turned to face him and then grabbed his other hand as well. “I’m going to teach you how to dance.”

“Right now? What about our dinner?”

“I need to put this energy to good use _somewhere_ , or else I’ll go insane.”

“Alright then, _professor_ ,” He smiled. “Where do I start?”

I placed one of my hands behind his shoulder and lifted the other next to us. “Let me lead. Just follow in my footsteps.”

In the end, I had about as much luck teaching Hugo the waltz as he had teaching me to swordfight, but I supposed for a couple of first-timers, neither of us had performed all that badly in either. There were the occasional missteps, the off-tempo turns, mismatched shuffles, but we did them all with smiles on our faces. In no time, we’d forgotten the distant melodies and were spinning together to the rhythm of our own laughter and bodies. 

“If we weren’t meant to be together,” I started, taking a pause without letting go of him, “then how come our hands fit so perfectly inside one another?” I leaned forward against his chest, resting my head on the base of his neck, radiating his comfortable warmth. “How come you feel so good against my skin?”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Hugo pulled me closer. “What will they say? Your parents, my father…”

“If they love us, then they will accept our happiness for what it is.” I looked up at his hazel eyes, and tried my hardest to instill in them the peace they did to me. 

At the very least, my attempt brought him a smile. “What is it about you that makes me spill out every secret without a second thought? I still can’t believe I told you about _baking_.”

“You want a secret? I’ll tell you a secret.” I felt my heart drum a little closer to my chest, but the weight against it was slowly rising out. “I’ve thought about you every single day for at least two months.”

“T-Two months?” he blurted.

“Every last drawing in my sketchbook is of you. They’re all you. You might have been the first subject I drew more than once, maybe too often.”

Hugo’s eyes gleamed. “I always looked up to you,” he admitted, “because I’d always found you honorable, and confident, I mean, you’re the _prince!_ But... _well_ ,” A smirk spread across his lips, “sorry, now all I can see is the boy who cried for me.”

I couldn’t help but kiss him, once, twice, enough times for his back to meet the wall. “I thought I was the boy who stole your first kiss.” 

His hands cupped my cheeks and then pulled me in for more.

“I love you,” I whispered, the words sudden but honest. “I love you so much.”

Hugo swallowed, his smile calm and feeding off of mine. “I…”

Footsteps. Unmistakably, there was someone near us. Adrenaline burned rivers of fire through my skin. I stepped away, looking all around for the source. Hugo quickly ran up to the alleyway’s exit and then looked both ways, but then returned to me without any other words. 

Another shuffle sounded, _above._ Both of us snapped our heads up, only to find half a dozen dark figures running across the rooftops towards the castle. One of them stopped to look down at us. The only thing I could make out from its form was the fact that something covered its face, some kind of mask.

“M-Miguel,” Hugo mumbled.

But I found no words to meet his, just a broken gaze, wide, fearful. 

The figure lifted one of its fists, and two others stopped beside it. 

Both of us slowly walked back without looking away, trying to find the strength to just break into a sprint, but something about their silent stares was petrifying.

One of them jumped down before us and landed perfectly on their feet, toying with a shiny knife in his hands. Their fall blew out half of the candles around us. The other two soon appeared behind us, making us properly surrounded, with nowhere to go, while the rest of these likely-assassins headed for the castle. For my parents, no doubt.

I didn’t waste time pulling out my heartblade from my chest. “Stand behind me,” I whispered to Hugo, who did so without protest.

These figures wore no armor, only a dark suit that left no inch of skin uncovered. Their masks were fashioned like sleek and somber owl heads with small protrusions for beaks over their mouths. 

All three began slowly advancing towards us at the same time, holding their knives ahead of them.

Fear took over my limbs and threatened to both melt and freeze them at the same time, but Hugo’s slow breathing on the nape of my neck kept me grounded. Needless to say, as soon as my legs stopped shaking, I went for the weakest link first, the one alone behind us. 

Maybe he wasn’t expecting this kind of sword, because it promptly smashed his hand—and knife—onto the wall at the same time as Hugo grappled the other and pulled himself forward, carrying the momentum into a punch that exploded against the assassin’s chin. The _crack_ of impact suggested maybe the owl’s beak hadn’t been the only casualty. 

As his body fell back against the wall, Hugo quickly returned to my side as I flipped to face the other two intruders, now a bit more hesitant in approaching me.

“Who are you?!” I barked. “Reveal yourselves!”

Neither budged, still holding their knives towards us, but one of them gave a light chuckle. “Don’t worry about us, princeling,” he snickered. “By the time we’re done playing with you, the kingdom will be ours. Our armies get closer to this city with every second. It won’t be long until they’re here, so if you want to save us some time, why not just give in now and surrender?” he snickered.

 _Phinian_ assassins, bringing the war with them. Politics were the farthest thing from my mind. All I could think about was my family, in mortal peril and unaware of it all. The combined efforts of Mamá, Papá, and Rosa could take out an entire squadron, so it was no surprise they were counting on the element of surprise. The thought of them not even being given a fair chance to fight back made my blood boil. _Cowards._

“Give me the sword,” Hugo muttered.

“I can’t. Only I can wield it,” I hushed back.

Hugo gave a grunt of annoyance, then wrapped his arms around mine, holding my hands inside his just as he’d done in the forest to fix my stance. “Trust me,” he whispered, “We’ll get to them in time.”

Though my breaths were frantic, lit ablaze by adrenaline, I surrendered my limbs to him. Hugo would always be a far better fighter than me.

“This is your last chance to let us go,” I warned them.

“Or?” the other man laughed.

Before I could respond, he flicked his wrist and shot the knife towards us. Puppeteering my body, Hugo turned my sword on its side and let the knife clatter against it and to the ground. 

A sigil glowed yellow on the back of the man’s hand, and then it promptly flew back to his grip.

“Or you’ll regret ever setting foot on this country,” I spat.

Without another word, they both charged, one aiming high, the other low.

Hugo adjusted my sword accordingly, raising my hands high and then quickly turning it so the blade was angled towards the floor, blocking both hits at once. While one of the assassins bounced back from the sudden collision, the other spun to the side just fast enough to slice a red line of blood across Hugo’s arm.

A choke and a swallow escaped his lips at the same time, but Hugo’s posture remained rigid. After a shallow breath, he let go of me, pushed my body towards the fallen man behind us, and then jumped ahead at the assassin who’d attacked him. Anger and worry flared like thundering clouds inside me at the same time as my back hit the wall, both directed at him.

I looked up just in time to see Hugo twisting the man’s wrist inside his grip until it cracked and released the knife inside it. The Phinian gave a cry of pain.

Though Hugo’s body was trembling a little, it only seemed to fuel his energy.

As the other knife sailed through the air towards him, he pulled the panting body in front of him. The knife pierced the middle of its chest, rendering the assassin’s squirming limbs frozen, then limp at his sides. At that point, Hugo let go, leaving the man to choke on the dirty floor.

Without weapons, Hugo made quick work of the remaining assassin, with a high kick that sent the man tumbling backwards against our forgotten dinner table. His waist crashed against the edge, and his back against our plates and the remainder of our food.

As soon as he stopped moving, Hugo fell to one knee, clutching his bleeding arm. I released a long breath and let my sword dissipate.

“W-Why did you do that?” I stammered.

“I need to protect you,” he mumbled without looking at me. “You’re the prince. Y-You’re my...”

“That doesn’t mean you’re disposable!” I cried, but Hugo only shook his head, looking down at his own shaking hands.

Closer, I could see they were blood red. His eyes were wide as the moon, afraid only of himself. What I’d made him become.

“Hugo,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“We need to save your parents,” he sniffed. “Let’s go.”

“Hugo—,”

When he looked back at me, I saw tears sliding down his cheeks as he scowled. “ _Now,_ Miguel!” he snapped.

I reluctantly nodded, but the pit in my stomach had never been deeper. In the wake of adrenaline, fatigue and anxiety warred inside my muscles.

As he ran out of the alleyway, I ran after him.

The signs something was amiss didn’t come subtly, beginning right at the castle’s entrance, where a pair of guards lied dead in pools of their own blood. I didn’t let the sight fester in my mind, sprinting down the gardens. Dark figures dashed across the upper floors, jumping from balcony to balcony on a race towards the ballroom.

“Go ahead!” Hugo shouted, taking a sharp turn close to the entrance. “I’ll get myself a sword!”

I didn’t have time to argue or worry, because the building was quickly approaching in the distance. As the lights and music assaulted me all at once in the doorway, some of the people inside throwing me odd glances, my sights were fixed on my parents at the stage on the other end of the room. 

“ _Mamá!_ ” I howled. Now, they all stared at me and conversations died to silence. 

My eyes scanned the ceiling—the assassins were in the process of entering the room through a window on the back, dropping onto the balcony above. Right behind my parents. My throat was so arid I could hardly scream.

The crowd parted around me as I ran towards her, my eyes locked with the movements of the shadowy men. I was late. There’d be no time. They were ahead, while I was still meters away.

The first one dropped next to my father, drawing pointing fingers and gasps from the crowd as he raised his knife.

My heart stopped, but not before I had my grip around the hilt of my heartblade. I pulled it out and threw it forward, focusing every last thread of brainpower I still had on keeping it together. Its edges began to wither, spinning through the air like a boomerang, but it remained intact just long enough to crash against the assassin’s body before he could complete the attack.

The entire room fell silent, but overhead, five more assassins appeared on the balcony.

“Miguel!” my mother gasped, standing up and running to me holding the sides of her dress. “Your sword!”

I didn’t answer her. What could I even say that would make this any better? To my immense relief, Hugo soon appeared behind me, out of breath and with bandages wrapped around most of his left arm. In his hands was his usual sword. 

While Papá scurried behind us, my mother actually pulled out her own heartblade and stood between me and Hugo, facing the five assailants who dropped one by one to the stage before us. Her sword was long and regal, narrowing away from the hilt, and with a golden glow along the edges that always seemed to glint against my eyes.

“You have made three mistakes today,” she began as both us and them stayed still, waiting for the other to strike first. “The _first_ one was coming here. The _second_ was interrupting our ball, and the _third_ one was attempting to kill my husband. For these, you will stand no trial. I have the perfect punishment here already.” The smile on her face was cold and merciless.

Both her and Hugo shot forward before I could, but I didn’t let myself stay back for long. 

Before I had reached their advance, two of the assassins had already met their end at Mamá’s blade with quick cuts. I’d seen her fight before, but never this seriously. Never for her life. The elegant jabs my sister inherited came with movements so smooth it was as if the floor was made of ice.

One of them shot his knife at Hugo, but a quick swing of his sword redirected it to the floor, which it pierced at an angle. As the assassin stumbled backwards, Hugo spun into another slice, his eyes bulging and—

Inches from the man’s neck, his sword froze. His entire body did, paralyzed by something unseen. The sword fell against the man’s shoulder and then clanged to the ground as Hugo stepped back, shaking his head once again, eyes at the ground.

My eyes were glued to the two of them. The assassin was about to recover, his knife dislodging itself from the floor to fly back to his grip, when Mamá’s sword emerged from his chest, covered in his blood.

Another, behind her, had picked up Hugo’s fallen sword and was about to strike her back, but my feet were already at full sprint. I raised my heartblade just in time to block it, my shoulder blades meeting hers. 

“Focus, Miguel,” Mamá whispered, but my confrontation didn’t last long. 

With the full width of the blade blocking my view, I heard the man before me fall before I saw it. When I lowered it, my father was standing there, shaking his fist with the man at his feet.

When the four of us all turned to search for the last remaining assassin, we found him jumping back out the same window they’d entered through. 

All noise in the room had been reduced to our labored breaths, me and Mamá’s swords vanishing from our hands. The first thing I did was return to Hugo, who still looked shell shocked, holding his hands against his chest. 

“Out!” She shouted as myriads of guards were flooding into the room minutes too late, their armor hastily put on. The few guests who remained began to scurry out the doors. “All of you! Guards, escort our guests to the main hall!” Her gaze turned to Hugo. “That includes you, Mr. Acero. I’ll be sure to let your father know of your help and—”

“No, Mamá,” I interrupted, low enough that only she would hear. “Hugo stays.”

Her lips thinned. “Very well.”

The four of us stood in silence until every last guest left the room.

The very moment we were alone, Mamá beamed and pulled me into a tight hug. “Miguel! You did it!” she laughed, spinning in circles with me before pulling me back to look into my eyes with more joy than I’d seen in her in weeks. “Who was it then? Young Adella?”

“T-The war, Mamá,” I sniffed, eyes still red with tears. “It’s coming. It’ll be here soon.”

“The war was always coming, Miguel, whether we wanted it or not. Right now, I want to hear about what makes me happy.” She held my hands in hers between us. “Now tell me, who was it?”

My lips were dry, and I knew I didn’t have the strength to find the right words, but now, any words would do. As long as they were the truth. “It wasn’t any guest. Mamá, I have had my sword unlocked for around a week now.”

All at once, that joy vanished from her face, the air growing cold around us in its wake. “...What?” 

“ _Miguel_ ,” my father growled. “Have you been keeping _secrets_? Do you not trust us?”

“I-I should go—,” Hugo tried to say, but my father took him by the arm before he could back away.

“Are you involved in this?!” he barked.

“ _Magnus_ ,” Mamá stated, her tone almost threatening as her eyes dug into Papá’s. “Keep the boy here.” She looked back at me, but traces of her anger remained. “Miguel… Please.”

“It’s Hugo,” I admitted as tears streaked down my cheeks, my stomach heavy as an anvil. “Hugo is my true love.” 

“Miguel!” she gasped.

“It’s true!” I yelled. “Hugo is the one I kissed last week, and Hugo is the one I have been in love with for _months_. If you can’t accept that, then… I’m afraid there’s nothing more to be said.”

“Go to your room,” she said, voice low and firm, but still sharp as a dagger. “Go.”

“But— but Mamá!" I protested. "I have my sword! That’s all you wanted!”

“Enough, Miguel,” she seethed. “A lie is a lie. Mr. Acero, stay with me. We will hear your side of this _story_ with your father present.”

“I’m not leaving him!” I protested.

“The war is upon us, Miguel!” Papá gripped my wrist, dragging me to the door. “We don’t have time for your spoiled tantrums. Isadora, head for the north tower. General Acero will be waiting there, studying the maps I gave him earlier.”

“Hugo!” I shouted, trying to pull myself away.

Hugo’s broken, desperate gaze towards me as my mother dragged him away was not something I think I’d ever forget. It lingered on my mind even as my father pulled me past the doorway. By the time we reached the stairs, I had no more strength left to fight. I already knew he was deaf to my pleas.

* * *

Alone in my room, in the expanse of my bed, I wanted nothing more than to drown in those blankets.

I’d ruined it all already. What was the point of being here, without him?

Sleep took gradually my fragile conscience like the slow, insidious touch of poison.


	7. Chapter 7

I woke up to the sounds of war.

There were cannons firing in the distance, mixed closer with shouts of fear and barked orders, hurried steps back and forth downstairs. I already knew I’d missed too much.

The first person I thought about was Hugo. How I’d let him down, ruined his life, pushed him to the brink more than once only to let it end like that. 

How he was likely out there right now, heading for the frontlines. 

The scar that yesterday had left inside of me threatened to rip itself open, but it was held together by noise outside, which firmed me to the present with a single goal—making sure the members of my family were all safe. Despite the building, bitter resentment I felt or their outbursts, they were still my family. Helping now was my duty not just as a Margloria, but as a citizen of the kingdom. 

I jumped off my bed and got dressed faster than I’d ever managed to, not sparing a single second for vanity or frivolous glances at the mirror.

The moment I threw open the door, I found myself standing before a woman stationed outside, guarding my door like a soldier. She was tall, with sharp features and a stern expression etched on her face, though when her eyes met mine, it dug itself even firmer against her features—one of Mamá’s assistants. “Your Highness, your family—,”

“Where are they?” I asked, nearly out of breath despite leaving the bed less than five minutes ago.

“Phinian armies were already spotted on the horizon by dawn,” She replied with a serious expression. “Your parents and your sister have been hard at work with the Head Generals outside of the city since then, where we’ve gathered our armies.” She crossed her arms, tapping her fingers against her long sleeves. “They have _also_ requested that I’d let you know that you are to be confined to your room until their safe return.”

Panic rose up my throat like a cloud of fire. “Are they insane?! I need to go help them!”

“Would I be mistaken in saying you have no combat experience, Your Highness?”

“Yes!” I shot back, seizing victory with a boost of vigor. “I happened to save their lives _just_ yesterday, and I’ll do it again today if I need to!” 

“ _Amateur assassins_ are a far cry from the horrifying scale of true war. You are to remain inside, My Prince. Our allied forces are already on the way from our neighboring cities. If they arrive in time, it’ll no doubt be a result of your efforts in alerting your parents yesterday. But that’s not all.” She pulled out a piece of paper from her back pocket. A letter, not even sealed properly. “The princess has also asked me to deliver you this.”

As she handed it to me, I noticed the only thing written on the outside was a lone _H._ It had to be from him, or at the very least about him.

“Thank you,” I sputtered, turning around to return to my bedroom as fast as I could, both so I could read the letter in private and avoid turning this conversation into a shouting match.

I’d torn the envelope open before I’d even reached the desk.

* * *

_Dear Miguel,_

_Please don’t blame yourself for yesterday, or anything. These last few days have been some of the best of my life, and there’s no one I’d rather have spent them with than you. I haven’t talked much to my father since telling him about us, but I think his mind was too caught up in the war to really think about it. I couldn’t tell him the truth about me, so I’m fighting tomorrow too. I feel like it’s the least I can do, at this point. I don’t know if I’m coming back home, so in case I don’t, tell him the full truth. Tell him I was happy regardless, and that this was my decision. And since I didn’t have the chance to say this back during our dinner, I’m not wasting the last chance I might have now, so here it goes:_

_I love you too._

_Hugo._

* * *

  
  


I lowered the letter back to my desk and then slammed it with a fist. Of course Hugo had gone off into the war instead of telling his father the truth. Now, with my heart burning with anxiety, I knew more than ever I wouldn’t be in the right place until I was by his side. If that meant being on the frontlines of the battle, then so be it. As long as I could be with him. As long as I knew he was safe.

Fortunately, since I had my heartblade inside my chest, there wasn’t anything to pack.

Leaving my room would be easy, but every step after that would prove a new challenge. First, I’d have to deal with the annoying woman they’d placed outside, but I doubted someone of her age would be as agile as me.

Simple as it was, I executed that plan better than I’d have expected. The moment the bedroom was a little open, I pushed myself out as fast as I could and broke into a sprint down the corridor, quickly met with her angry shouts behind me. 

“My Prince!” she echoed out the hall, her steps rushed and still far too slow. “Stop! My Prince!”

They weren’t hard to ignore.

The hallways were mostly desert. On my way out, the only presence I met was that of the few servants and staff I’d accidentally scared running past. The guards must’ve all been summoned to protect the city, which fueled the expectations for both my best and worst case scenarios out there.

There weren’t many horses inside the castle’s stables, so to save time I just went for the one with the cleanest saddle, petting the side of its neck as I climbed. I never expected that, among all the different lessons and classes my mother had put me through, _horse riding_ was the only one that would actually prove useful to me. 

The path ahead of me was clear as I took a shortcut through the front garden, the vibrant colors of trees, bushes, and flowers blurring past me as their scents melted in the air together. For a second, I was brought back to the day Hugo and I met, when the most complicated thing in the world was his smile.

But there was still time to save it now, if I let adrenaline anchor me to the present. 

The gates at the end were lying open, a pair of distracted guards waiting outside. I didn’t look back for their reaction; now riding down the main street of the city. Where once commerce thrived, I found nothing but silence. Every door was closed, every window slammed shut, every person still outside hurrying after something or someone, trying to keep whatever they had close in face of a way they had no control over. 

The cold bite of wind against my skin as well as the burning fever of anxiety underneath it kept me alert. The closer I got to the city’s tall stone walls, the worse I felt. What would happen if I got there and found him dead or on the brink, all because I couldn’t be there to help? All because I left him alone when it mattered most?

To think that if I played it safe yesterday and kept everything hidden, maybe I’d be out there by his side. 

No. There was no time for inexistent futures. If Hugo and I hadn’t spent the evening together, there was a fair chance my parents wouldn’t even be breathing today.

I crossed through the gates and into the deep forest outside without trouble. The way to war was clear. The forest floor was increasingly marred by footprints and horse trails as the noises grew, the shouting, the cannons, the distant clanging of swords.

There were some men scattered around me too, stumbling back to the city through the trees and bushes. Were we losing already?

The drumming in my heart grew restless as I spotted the end of the forest, sunlight making the fields beyond barely perceptible. As soon as I passed through, I was surrounded by a camp of large misaligned tents, hastily propped up during the night for the generals and tacticians.

My parents were close, somewhere in these. I leaned down, closer to the horse’s mane, and narrowed my gaze to the fields ahead me and nothing else, riding through the gaps between tents and whatever other paths I could find. If the growing pull in my chest meant anything, it was that Hugo couldn’t be far. 

Beyond the encampment, I found the true face of war in a gigantic sea of troops that made my horse stop on its feet. Here, there was nothing but to be heard but screams. 

While most soldiers marched on foot, a large amount in the frontlines cut through the battlefield on horses. Though the masses charging into battle from here all bore the traditional shiny Marglorian armor, the farther my gaze travelled, the more the lines between our army and theirs became blurred between silver and black. How the hell would I find Hugo in this madness?

Something tugged at my heart once again, like a finger trying to poke its way out. That pull… if only I could follow it.

“Miguel!” A voice shouted behind me. I snapped my head back to find both of my parents and my sister standing outside one of the larger tents, surrounded by the older head generals as well as a handful of guards. The expression on my mother’s face, in particular, was one of pure shock. “What in God's name are you doing here?!” she fumed. Though all three of them bore surprise in their faces, Rosa was the only one that did it with a smile. “Get back inside! Our allies are on the way!”

“I didn't come here to fight, Mamá,” I replied, raising my voice against the backdrop of noise. “I came here to save someone!”

Before they could protest, I gripped the reins of my horse and rode off into the mayhem. 

Despite the dozens of enemy troops not far ahead, and reason itself, I closed my eyes to the world and let my heart guide me, whispering directions into my ear with each vibration. They spoke a different story than the screams of anguish and anger, all indistinguishable, one of calm, peace, and the steady current in an otherwise still ocean pulling me forward. Trusting my own internal compass was the only way I’d ever hope to find Hugo. 

All I knew about the path it led me was that it was irregular, with sharp turns and zigzagging around the larger sources of noise. All the while, the sword within me shifted with every movement. When its end suddenly froze still, my eyes shot open.

I was still in the middle of the wide green fields, but the area I’d found myself in was marked by lesser bursts of war, with small mixed groups enclosed in their own battles.

Among those, to my right, was Hugo in his full set of armor back to back with another soldier as four others surrounded them. Though his partner had a shield, Hugo’s lied in pieces at his feet.

I jumped out of my horse at the same time as the Phinian soldiers all lunged at the two of them. Hugo’s movements were sluggish and held down by fatigue, but he still managed to block and push away the two men that had gone for him. His friend hadn’t been as lucky. While he’d nearly missed his parry against one of the assailants, the other used his distracted focus to drive the sword through one of the gaps in the waist of his armor. The cry he gave as he fell to the ground was brief and cut short by another swing, but it echoed inside my bones.

The soldiers raised their swords all around him. “Hugo!” I called, pulling out my heartblade from my chest as I dashed towards him, pushing my back against his. While Hugo was once again consumed by grunts of struggle and quick reflexes, I threw my arms forward, hands pushing against my heartblade, just in time to push back the pair of incoming swords, and then firmed my grip on the hilt to swing forward. My attempt struck both of them, sending them off to the side. Before they could recover, I gripped Hugo’s arm and pulled him back, away from his attackers.

The wide, confused eyes beneath his helmet shifted to me in less than a second, stumbling with me.

“What are you doing here?!” He panted, raising his sword beside mine to stare down the four men together, standing beside each other.

“I got your letter,” I smiled, though the four soldiers began approaching us all at once, cutting it short.

And then, suddenly, they cut their advances short and staggered back.

Hugo and I looked at each other and then back toward them, but by them all four soldiers were already inexplicably running away from us. 

Beneath our feet, the ground began to rumble. Only then did I look behind me, and, in the process, find out just what had made them flee. A cavalry legion twice the size of the Phinian army galloped towards them from all sides, bearing a mixture of Marglorian insignias and other The allied reinforcements had arrived. 

I couldn’t help but laugh. When I looked back, Hugo was doing the same. Both of us let go of our swords and let our hands cling to each other as we watched. Relief came all at once, instead of in waves, bleeding my body dry of all the worries I’d gone through as every last knot inside of me came undone, ashes raining down on us and coating the green fields in a sheet of gray.

As the stampede of horses rode past all around us and drowned out every other sound, Hugo let his forehead rest against mine. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Do you really think I would’ve let you go into war without me?” I whispered back.

“I should’ve known.” Laughter escaped his mouth between every word, wherever it could find room. “ I should’ve known you’d find a way to sneak out and find me, somehow.”

“I was looking at my heartblade the wrong way this entire time. Mamá used hers to win important battles, and Rosa to impress the public in her performances. I was thinking too much like them. If my sword was anything like theirs, I wouldn’t have been able to block those strikes.” A grin warmed my face. “Because now, I think my heartblade’s purpose has always been protecting you.” 

Hugo tilted my body forward in his arms, keeping his own parallel with my descent, and then planted his lips on mine in the middle of the army’s charge into battle. 

I never wanted it to end.


	8. Chapter 8

“Well,” My mother sighed, pressing a pair of fingers to her temple as she leaned back on her throne. “We have far too much to discuss and not enough time, so let’s make it quick.”

The moment there were no more Phinian troops in sight, myself, Hugo, and his father had all been summoned to the throne room for a meeting with my parents. General Acero was both very similar and very different to Hugo at the same time, standing at the same height side by side. They shared several features, including their eyes, nose—as well as the sea of freckles across it—their light brown skin tone, and even a similar posture. The only differences between them, aside from the weary signs of age, were that his father had a full black beard and had a noticeably colder atmosphere around him, maybe not by choice. His gaze was rigid, his mouth almost incompatible with smiles, and every place that Hugo showed softness, the general had only tough muscles on the exterior.

“Go on then,” My father exhaled, visibly tired. “Do try not to lie to us this time.”

“All I’ve said to you was the truth.” I swallowed, glancing at Hugo beside me. He met my attention with a nod. “It began a few months ago,” I continued, “when I saw him training with the other guards…”

Once I’d started, the whole story spilled out of me in a constant stream, from the very beginning when I’d started to notice him in training sessions and corridors, to our first kiss, to the night we spent together in the alleyways of the soldier district. 

At the end, only when I was done, I stepped forward to face her, filled with the confidence Hugo’s company assured me. “Mamá, I will only say this once. Me and Hugo are in love. Together. We will not be separated. Either you choose to accept us both, or you get neither.” 

“Of course I _accept_ you, you big child!” she smiled in an almost mocking way. “I’m ecstatic for you! I couldn’t be happier! You were _punished_ for somehow thinking this was an acceptable thing to hide when we needed you most, especially after our talk!”

“But I—”

“You lied to me and your father. You’ve met in secret several times. You _unlocked your heartblade_ without me there to give you my support! Miguel, as your mother alone, I am _furious,_ not to mention as the queen. Your heart picked a commoner, Miguel? Truly?” Her gaze ran Hugo up and down, an act that made him squirm. “I suppose the boy is cute enough, but how are we supposed to spin this?”

“If I may, Bella. I have been thinking,” Papá said. “It is precisely what saved our kingdom.” His eyes were glinting with pride as he extended a hand towards us. “The purest union between the royal family and the forces that drove Phinia away. It is a show of support for our troops. Imagine their morale, seeing one of their own join the royal family!” 

“I suppose… you may not be fully wrong,” she sighed. “But that _is_ a matter for another time.” After a small break to let her breaths settle, her posture softened. “I’m proud of you, Miguel.”

“P-proud?” I asked.

“Above all, of seeing you trust your heart with so much hope. Right, _amor?_ ” She looked at Papá. 

“Yes.” I could tell he was trying to appear tough, but Papá had never been very good at doing so when he wasn’t actually mad. The smile he failed to stifle remained constant inside his beard, showing even in the corners of his eyes. “You should _not_ have fought during the ball _or_ yesterday, but I will accept that you did so with the best intentions. Which, again, is not to say you are free of punishment.”

There it was. 

“No leaving the castle’s premises for a month,” Mamá smiled.

“Wait,” I stepped forward once again, letting hope flutter wildly in my chest. “Is that it?”

“ _And_ ,” she added with a hint of mischief, maybe the same one I’d inherited to create this whole mess. “Training sessions with me every week. _Someone_ has to teach you, properly this time.”

“So you accept us?” Hugo asked, mouth agape. “Miguel and I can be together?”

Excitement almost dropped me to my knees. “You’re… you’re okay with us?” 

Her gaze shifted to Hugo’s father. “General Acero?”

“If I may, Your Majesty,” he nodded, placing a hand on Hugo’s shoulder. “I would be honored by the prospect of my son marrying the prince.” He looked down. “As long as that is what he wants?”

“Yes,” Hugo quickly replied, unable to contain his own laughter. “Of course it is.”

Mamá and Papá looked at each other with faint smiles before turning back to us. 

“Very well then,” Papá said. “We give the two of you our blessing.”

Both Hugo and I grinned. There was a new light in his eyes, but I soon realized it wasn’t directed at me or my parents, but rather his father. 

“There’s one more thing, Your Majesties.” Hugo cleared his throat. “If it’s alright with all of you, I would like to henceforth step down from my post as junior guard.”

His father seemed to hold back a flinch. “Step down? Are you mad, boy?”

“A boy of your talents?” Papá asked, a bit wounded. “Are you sure?”

“Why is that, _Hugo_?” My mother followed, bearing a calmer tone than the other two.

“I may have trained hard to get where I am today, but it’ll never change the fact that this… is not who I am. I’m not a soldier, nor am I suited for the duties of one.” He smiled at me. I smiled back. “And this is how I’ve always felt. Meeting Miguel has only made me brave enough to admit it and be true to who I am. That is why I ask.”

“Are you sure, Hugo?” His father asked. “Why did you never say anything?”

“I just didn’t want to disappoint you,” he admitted, turning to face his father. “I know this is all you’ve ever wanted for me, but it’s not what _I_ want.”

“What _do_ you want?” Mamá asked.

“Well.” His glimmering eyes remained locked with his father’s, his smile pure and peaceful. “I haven’t thought much about this, but I think I would be happy as a teacher.” I couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Helping younger recruits with their first steps. That way I can still practice and pass down all I know.”

She smiled. “Who am I to deny our son-in-law such a request?”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Hugo bowed.

“Please,” Mamá said, “Call me Bella. I’ll alleviate the rest of your collective punishments for disobeying us on one condition—you announce your relationship to our citizens as soon as you can. With that public display you gave back at the battle, I’m not sure it’ll remain a secret for long.”

“Of course.” I quickly replied.

“Then you are free to go.”

I turned to look at Hugo, but his father stood between us. “Can we talk for a moment, son?”

“Sure. Go ahead, Miguel. I’ll meet you later.”

I nodded, shooting my parents a relaxed smile before I left the room. There was a faint flurry of steps from outside the door seconds before I opened it. On the other side, Rosa casually leaned against the wall next to it, looking the other way.

“Not snooping, I’m sure?” I asked.

“Course not. That kind of thing is beneath me.” She winked with a sly smile. “Thank you for not telling them I knew about you two.”

“Thank you for keeping it a secret, somehow,” I retorted. “Sorry, but I have an important appointment I should be heading to.”

“Then don’t let me stop you, little brother. Dork,” she muttered before walking away, leaving me free to head out the castle’s front doorway.

* * *

Hugo met me beneath the shade of the apple tree not five minutes after I’d left him, at the place we’d arranged to meet once all of this was done. The place we’d first met. Since he had no armor to remove this time, he laid down at my side against the trunk with a sigh of relief that hid pain beneath the surface from the few wounds he’d gathered on the day of the battle.

“So.” I rested my head on his shoulder, the same way I’d done when he was asleep in my secret room. “How did it go with your father?”

“He just wanted me to be sure. Said he was proud of me, hugged it out. The usual.” He took a deep, relaxed breath “So it’s official: I just quit my job. I’ll never have to fight another battle in my life.”

“So what do we do now?” My hand caressed his soft chest and then pulled him closer into a hug. “When do we make it public?”

He stretched an arm around my back, holding me against him, his warmth infectious. “How does tomorrow sound?”

Somehow, panic never rose inside of me. “Tomorrow sounds perfect.”

As the afternoon sun died behind the distant hills, our bodies grew heavier against each other until sleep made them light once again.


End file.
